July 8th. 7:22pm. 8lbs 8 oz. 20" long. Brown Hair (so far). And blue eyes (so far, as well). He wasn't due until July 17. But like Jackson, he came 9 days early. 17-9 is 8. And the 8th of July happens to also be Sarah's birthday. "When you're a mother, you give every bit of yourself to your kid," Sarah said a few days earlier. "Can't I keep one day?"
Turns out that it was perfectly appropriate for Noah to come on her birthday. For it was a sort of rebirth for Sarah as well. For the past few months she had been preparing--physically, mentally and spiritually. Sarah had a lot to recover from after Jackson's birth. She wanted to deliver naturally again, but it was more than a little terrifying to go into something again that was so frightening and painful. And even just as her partner and supporter, I was scared, too. At the end of Jackson's birth, Sarah said "I feel like a lion." It was true. But it was in a survival sense. She was amazed she had survived. And it took a lion's strength to do so. She was a different kind of lion this time. A wiser lion. Poised. Brave. Confident. And so so Beautiful.
Sarah's contractions began at about noon. It's possible that she had been having mild contractions for a few days. But the first one she had that she knew was real happened in Target. Classic. She dealt with the early contractions at home, privately, with music. When they were lasting a minute and got about 4 minutes apart and were too powerful for her to bear easily, we dropped Jackson at a friend's house and went to the midwife's office. We had to pull over 3 times along the short drive (in some pretty sketchy places) for Sarah to get a leg out of the car and have the contraction leaning against the roof on the side of the road. We made it to the midwife, Sarah having contractions in the parking lot, the elevator and then on all fours in the hallway. I was afraid Margret (our amazing midwife) would tell us to return home for a while, but when she took one look at Sarah's face, she said "You're close." When she was checked, she was already 5cm dilated and so we went to the hospital.
Atlanta Medical Center is just across the road from the midwife, but we still had to drive (Sarah couldn't do much walking, and it was at least 103 degrees out). Sarah had a contraction in the parking lot in the car as we were heading to the exit. So I stopped the car for her to get out. We were blocking a car from backing out, and he almost hit us. I honked, yelling out the window "Having a contraction here! Hang on buddy."
We got to the hospital at about 4pm, but the room wasn't ready. Sarah was dealing with powerful contractions now--in the hall, with the birthing ball. She had headphones on and was still in her own space, staying calm, saving her energy. She did this all day--giving just enough to make it through, preserving, preparing for what was to come. I was with her, holding her, rubbing her back. But she was dealing with them in her own way, talking to herself, staying positive. I put a lot of eye pressure on the lady cleaning our room, and finally we were let in at about 4:30. Brittany was our lovely nurse. She put the strip on Sarah. The baby's heartbeat was strong and hearing it made Sarah very excited. I hung lots of Jackson's artwork on the walls. That made Sarah smile big. Contractions were tough now. She was in the bed and didn't like lying down. Brittany had a lot of papers for Sarah to sign. When that was all done, she inflated the tub and began filling it.
It took a long time to fill that thing (kind of like a big kiddie pool). And Sarah was hurting now. I showed her a picture of Jackson, and that made her feel a lot better. Between the contractions, she was in a sort of bliss. The downtime felt so good, she said. And she was relaxing deeply during the breaks. When the pain returned, she was moaning low and loud. Our heads close together. Our breathing in synch.
When Margret got there (about 5:30), Sarah was 8cm dilated. That was an amazing announcement. She had progressed that far and still the pain was manageable. The tub was ready, and she got in it.
"I love the tub," she said at about 6. We didn't know it, but she was in transition. This was the hardest part last time. Apparently the tub brought the pain down about 4 notches, she said. I don't want to underestimate it. She was shaking through some of the harder contractions, letting out moans loud enough to be heard down the hall...or on the floor below (as the noise was super low). We all were impressed by the vocalization. Generally, her moans would crescendo with the pain. But there was one particular one that started louder than any other and stayed at that volume for the whole minute. I wish I had recorded it. It was like an alphorn. She had to do a lot of talking to herself. "Stay open. Relax," she would say over and over. At one point, she said "I can't do it." But before any of us could respond, she shouted out "I can do it."
The pain was getting worse. She wanted him out, kept talking to him, "Noah, come. Come now Noah." And she was worried she wouldn't know when to push. But we all told her to trust her body, that her body would know when it was time. And at about 6:30, sure enough, she knew it was time to push. Pushing was tremendous. Her legs shook. Her hips hurt. We weren't sure she would push in the tub. But there was no way she was getting out now. She asked for me to get in with her, so I hopped in, sitting on the edge, my feet pushing her hips up, my arms under her underarms.
She pushed like hell for about 45 minutes, coached by Margret, letting Noah move down and then retreat back up, trying to get into a rhythm with him. At about 7:10 we began to see his head, and he had brown hair. We were so close now. We knew it. But the pain wasn't letting up. Sarah needed all her strength at this point. Brittany was holding one leg. I had her upper body. And at 7:22 she pushed Noah out into the water, into Margret's hands.
He was plump and beautiful, blue for a second, but then very rosy. I was prepared for the cone head this time, which was less severe than Jackson's. The water kept him warm, so he didn't need to get under any lights. After I cut the chord, Sarah got in the bed, and he got in with her and nuzzled and fed. She was glowing. He was so soft. And I was overflowing with pride and relief and love.
(but shot)
